Sweet Delirium
by ikariss
Summary: (Tsu x His) When Tsuzuki calls in sick for work, Hisoka's sent to check on him. Will the young shinigami's past hinder his ability to care for the one he loves most?
1. Waiting

Hello everyone! I'm actually new to the whole world of Yami no Matsuei, I've read the first four manga but that's about it and already I've become an addict (not to mention a fierce Hisoka x Tsuzuki fan!) And since I have a weakness for my favorite bishies getting sick (and oh so defenseless :eye gleam:) I concocted up this fluff. Hope you all enjoy anyway -- 

Pairings: Hisoka x Tsuzuki (uh...duh)

Warnings: this fic contains yaoi, if you don't like it don't read it-and if you don't like it why are you even reading this series anyway? Lol --

Tatsumi thumbed through some papers thrown half-heartedly at his desk, grumbling over the extra work a certain sick slacker had left him and silently cursing himself for always being the first to arrive in the office.

"Good morning, Tatsumi-san." A timid young voice broke him momentarily from his thoughts of self-loathing.

"Good morning, Hisoka." He sighed simply, not bothering to glance up at the blonde boy's expectant emerald eyes. Instead he feverishly continued his work, bothered slightly by the sudden presence of a soft breath against his neck.

After a good five minutes of this Tatsumi tiredly gave up his pace, slamming his fists on his desk and turning his cobalt eyes upward. "Is there something you need to tell me, Hisoka?" He asked, impatience tinting his words, while turning his eyes to meticulously scope the mounds of paperwork ahead of him and silently calculate the amount of money this extra work would account.

"Oh I'm sorry, you just seemed agitated..." The youth trailed off, he wasn't usually one to pry but he rarely had a chance to be alone with Tatsumi and actually sense what the seemingly cold older man was feeling. He wasn't surprised to find his spirit tense, stressed. Tatsumi's strained posture and speech constantly seemed to radiate an awareness that he was more qualified than the idiots surrounding him.

"Agitated?" Tatsumi growled, pulling his gaze up to Hisoka's innocent face and momentarily abandoning his industrious thoughts. "I am agitated, yes, but worried as well." The older man stated casually, resting his chin on his palm with a slight glint in his eye.

"Worried-about whom?" Hisoka pushed aside a stray flock of papers and sat on the soft maple of Tatsumi's desk, concern knitting his brow.

"Tsuzuki, who else. Stupid baka's got himself sick, I've always told him all those sweets were unhealthy..." Tatsumi stopped; he had an odd sensation on his cheek...like something soft and warm was against it. His thoughts jumped to the worst possibilities (which included a very perverted Hisoka) and cautiously reached out his trembling hand to feel the area around him.

"Tsuzuki-sama is sick? A high-pitched squeal buzzed in his ear, forcing the auburn- haired man to frantically pull his arm away in shock and push his chair back into another supple, tender body.

"How awful, we have to visit him Yuma!" An equally obnoxious voice sounded behind him, causing the tight-fisted brunette to jump from his chair in shock and mock-anger.

"Saya, Yuma, what are you doing in this department?" Tatsumi asked through gritted teeth, slowly closing his eyes and rubbing his aching temples in frustration.

"We were just coming to have a little fun!" Saya squealed, latching on to Hisoka's starch white sleeve as he attempted to sneak away.

"Yeah, there are so many cute guys in this sector!" Yuma assisted Saya by wrapping her strong arms around the struggling boy's slender waist. "It doesn't matter now, anyway, what's this about Tsuzuki honey being sick?" The small girl purred, drooping her plump lips into a slight pout.

Tatsumi eyed the three inter-mangled youth ahead of him before shrugging his shoulders and sinking back to his desk chair. "I don't know; he called this morning, stomach virus or something. If you ask me, though, he's just trying to get out of all this paper work." The older man stopped rubbing his temples, picking up a new paper to continue his work.

"Oh...can shinigami get ill?" Hisoka blinked curiously, pulling himself from the two manic girls' tight embrace.

"Of course, they travel through the human world in physical bodies, don't they?" A smiling Watari replied as he walked into the building, stroking his bird's soft, feathered chest while giving every one a gentle smile of acknowledgement. "Why, are you feeling ill, Hisoka?" The blonde scientist asked, joining the small congregation around Tatsumi's desk.

"No, no, I'm fine. Tatsumi just said that Tsuzuki has a virus." The young shinigami replied, "Though I'm wondering if he might just be hung-over." He continued seriously, looking slightly angry at the prospect.

"Ha ha, that's true, maybe you should go check on him, Hisoka, then you can drag his lazy ass in if that -is- indeed the case." Watari laughed with a slight gleam in his eye, imagining the possibilities.

Tatsumi's fist balled angrily as his patience for the raucous assembly around his desk to simple exasperation. "Well whatever you decide to do, direct it AWAY from my desk, please!" Tatsumi's voice rose to an angry pitch while still managing to maintain an air of order and politeness.

"Aww how sweet, you're worried about Tsuzuki, aren't you, Tatsumi-sama?" Watari cooed, digging an elbow into his fuming friend's side.

Tatsumi ignored the teasing scientist and continued his wild flipping through the heaps of documents, a bit of pink tinting his cheeks.

Having done his damage, Watari turned his attention to the blonde shinigami who was once more batting himself from the embrace of the two rabid girls. "In all seriousness, Hisoka, you should check up on him, I know he goes crazy if he doesn't have some one around to annoy." Watari patted the teen's shoulder sympathetically, as if to say 'sorry, but you're the youngest, so we can use you.'

"Why do I get the overwhelming sense that you're just trying to pass the bill?" Hisoka groaned, turning his head only to find his company gone, save for the furiously working man in front of him. "They always make Tsuzuki's partners deal with his antics, don't they?" The young shinigami mumbled, somewhat rhetorically. Giving up, Hisoka mumbled to himself angrily and turned to walk away when a soft scoff reached his ear.

"Why do you think he's gone through so many"  
--

Tsuzuki raked trembling fingers through his sweat-soaked hair, carelessly dropping the phone back on its receiver and slumping against the wall for support. Tatsumi had sounded slightly pissed over the phone, a twinge of guilt stroked the shinigami's mind for leaving his friend with his paperwork, but he quickly forgot it as his stomach curled in pain.

'Damn, what could I possible have eaten?' His hazy mind raced while his knees slumped against the cold floor of his dimly lit apartment. Sweat slid down his taunt face while harsh chills raced up his spine, worsening his already pounding headache.

Clumsily lifting a heavy arm to the table beside him, Tsuzuki hoisted himself up; one arm cradling his stomach while the other leaned heavily atop the stand. 'If I can just get to my bedroom I can get some sleep and everything will be ok.' He doubted this was true, but it was incentive enough to force his sore muscles to trudge to his soft bed and wrap himself in his warm quilt.

Tsuzuki burrowed himself to the depths of his sheets, struggling to absorb every ounce of warmth the silky folds could provide. His stomach churned angrily, making him double in pain and wish he had thought to set a trashcan and cup of water next to his bedded sanctuary. Despite the shinigami's most intrepid wishes, his gnashing stomach continued to wage war, eventually winning out to his pleading mind.

The brown-haired man pushed himself from bed, staggering to the bathroom before his stomach's contents stained the honey wood floors. The flushing toilet marked the end of his episode as Tsuzuki slumped across the bathroom floor, letting the cool tiles soothe his burning cheek. 'I'll only close my eyes for a minute.' He assured himself, slowly letting warm eyelids droop over his dull violet-eyes.  
--

Hisoka stood aimlessly in front of Tsuzuki's apartment door, enjoying the peace of the warm sun against his neck before entering the disordered enclosure Tsuzuki fondly referred to as "home." After a long sigh and a crick of his tense neck Hisoka let his soft, pale knuckles fall heavily against the door's wooden face. A few seconds passed by with no response so the young shinigami knocked harder, repeating his action a few more times for emphasis.

"This would be so much easier if you had a doorbell, Tsuzuki..." Hisoka mumbled under his breath as he waited once more for a call from the depths of the residence. Not wanting to seem anxious, the blonde stood his ground till he was sure a few minutes had rolled by, before reaching forward to test the lock. He couldn't help but let a smirk rest on his cherry lips as the doorknob turned with a satisfying click.

"Careless as always," Hisoka scoffed, carefully sidestepping a pile of clothes nestled beside the door. The blonde stopped, gently shutting the door behind him while waiting for his emerald eyes to adjust to the dimly lit apartment.

"Tsuzuki?" He asked timidly while scanning the room for any sign of life. "You're hiding behind a door trying to scare me aren't you? Stupid baka." The young shinigami scolded, finally finding the courage to continue deeper into Tsuzuki's home.

Hisoka tried to seem nonchalant but a foreboding feeling loomed over his head, his empathetic heart was telling him something was off and his mind told him it concerned Tsuzuki. After glancing through a few small rooms he came to a slightly open door, flooding delicate light into the rest of the gloomy house.

'This must be Tsuzuki's room then.' Hisoka considered seriously, 'but what if his plan all along was to get me -here-...' The blonde shut his jade eyes weakly as callous memories permeated his strong mind; pushing him into a new, complete darkness.

"N-no!" He shouted weakly, surprising himself by the strength of his own voice. 'Tsuzuki would never do that, he's an idiot and a slacker but he wouldn't do that!' He assured himself, balling his fist in new resolve as he pushed the door open slowly, letting the soft creak of the rusty hinges course his ears.

Hisoka could feel the speech he had prepared gurgling in his throat, ready to chastise the lazy shinigami for skipping a day of work, only to let his arm fall weakly from the door and have his words settle to the base of his neck. All he could see was a large bed adorned in crumpled lavender sheets, a small table lamp resting on a table beside it.

The blonde's heart jumped to his throat as he scanned the room silently. 'This is ridiculous, where could he be...' Hisoka turned his soft eyes; distracted by another brighter source of light seeping from a door positioned in the upper right corner of the modest bedroom. His pounding heart ebbed as his panic settled to the pit of his stomach. 'So that's where you're hiding.' He almost felt like laughing with relief as he made his way to the lightly stained door.

"Tsuzuki?" He asked somewhat impatiently, knocking lightly on the door in case the older man was indecent. Receiving no response, Hisoka pushed the door open stopping with panic as the intensity of the situation washed over him. Crumpled on the floor, next to the toilet, was a shivering Tsuzuki.

Hisoka rushed across the linoleum floors and settled to his knees, "Tsuzuki, Tsuzuki!" He repeated over and over, straining his frail muscles to turn the older shinigami onto his lap. He bit his lip nervously, brushing Tsuzuki's damp brunette hair from his sweat-streaked brow and resting his cool palm across the shinigami's burning forehead.

The blonde pulled his hand away in shock; Tsuzuki's forehead was too hot, this temperature had to be dangerous, even for a shinigami. "I have to get you to the bed, Tsuzuki, but I don't think I'm strong enough." Hisoka's voice wavered as dark thoughts coursed his mind, making him hold himself in fright.

'Dammit why am I so weak!' He rebuked himself mentally. 'I have to do this, Tsuzuki needs me.' With renewed courage Hisoka rose weakly to his feet, carefully entwining his arms under Tsuzuki's. Using the corner of the sink for leverage, the young shinigami pulled Tsuzuki to the bedroom, panting as he crawled on the unkempt bed, using his own body as a weight to pull the older shinigami atop the satin sheets.

Satisfied with his work, Hisoka wiped his sweaty brow with his wrist, pulling his feet to the floor. He had to find a bowl and a washcloth to help pull down the older shinigami's high fever. Sighing slightly from his physical exertion, Hisoka started to rise from the bed, only to feel a surprisingly strong grip around his brittle wrist.

Shocked, Hisoka turned to meet Tsuzuki's blurry violet eyes. "Don't leave." The brunette whispered through dry lips before letting his hand drop to the bed and succumbing once more to unconsciousness.

Hisoka stood poised, torn between looking for a bowl and watching over Tsuzuki. "I-I won't." He whispered quietly, lightly stroking the older shinigami's open palm before turning to continue his search. --

So there ya go, I hope this wasn't too bad XD I had fun typing it if that's any consolation. Haha so R&R please, especially if you think I should continue. I'm not sure at this point.  
Thanks to anyone who stops by to read the fic!


	2. Promise

Eheheh…I'm a bad person XD I sort of left this story hanging for (cough) 9 months. Ahh I'm so sorry everyone! I really don't have an excuse except that #1 I wasn't sure what I was going to do with this story #2 I sort of forgot about it after awhile and #3 I've been so busy with AP Comp that when I did remember this story I was drained creatively from essays and short stories. But anyhow, I'm here to fix that and give you guys what I think is going to be the last chapter.

I sort of woke up at 3:20 this morning, opened my laptop and started typing. As I write this introduction its 4:06 and I've written half the chapter, this definitely wasn't premeditated at all. I just randomly decided to write. Yes, I'm weird you got a problem with that?

Haha so anyway, same rules apply there will be yaoi and flames will be laughed at.

I really hope this chapter makes sense even though it's the middle of the night! And please R&R if you have time (I'm selfish alright, I like reviews!)

--

Pressure. An intense buzzing in my ear and red, red everywhere; blood, my blood. I remember: I slit my wrists. Funny, the pain is nonexistent; all I feel is a throbbing in my temples. I think I'm finally dying, this time it's actually going to work, and now I'm happy…maybe a little scared…?

Blood everywhere. Why won't it stop? The sheets are red now, if I don't die I know he'll yell at me for staining these sheets, but I'm pretty sure I won't live. I wonder if there's an afterlife. Will I cease to exist? What will it be like to be nothing? I'm scared, but I want to die.

I'm scared, but living is so much worse…

--

Tsuzuki's violet eyes shot open, dilated with fear. His bottom lip quivered slightly as his vision cleared. He felt so thirsty, so hot.

"Did you have a bad dream Tsuzuki?"

The brown haired shinigami looked up, his shoulders relaxed as he recognized a concerned looking Hisoka peering over his face, and memories of passing out in the bathroom flooded his mind. "Hisoka, did you get me on the bed by yourself? You've gotten stronger!" Tsuzuki commended happily, forcing a smile to hide his pain.

A quick glint of hurt passed through Hisoka's emerald eyes, but he ignored the older shinigami's behavior and clumsily dipped a soft washcloth into a small bowl. "This is going to be cold Tsuzuki but I've got to bring your fever down." The blonde said seriously, refusing to let emotion overtake work.

Tsuzuki flinched slightly as the cold cloth touched his warm skin but quickly relaxed under Hisoka's gentle touch. He felt his cheeks turn a deeper red and a small sigh left his parched lips.

Hisoka hesitated, "are you okay?" He asked doubtfully. "I've never really done this before, help others when they're sick I mean."

Tsuzuki's clouded eyes brightened and a small smile crept across his lips. "You mean I'm the first? That makes me happy." His smile quickly fell as his temples pounded again, leaving him feeling nauseous and weak.

"Ts-Tsuzuki?" Hisoka felt his eyes water, he felt so helpless watching the older shinigami in pain. Far too often he was the one being cared for, and his lack of experience made him feel useless.

Tsuzuki didn't respond, instead he breathed heavily. Hisoka watched intently as his chest heaved up and down, the soft light of the bedside lamp cast deep shadows against his pallid skin making him look so feeble and vulnerable.

"D-do you need a trashcan? Are you going to throw up?" the blonde boy asked impatiently, fear rising to the back of his mind. He considered calling Watari or Tatsumi, he vaguely remembered a phone near the front of the apartment and he was sure either man would be of more use in helping the ailing shinigami.

"N-no its okay, Soka. Just don't leave me…please? Don't leave." Tsuzuki mumbled softly, sliding his fingers through the folds of his silky sheets and tightening his fingers around them as his pain intensified.

Hisoka's heart thumped painfully against his chest. He wanted to help, but he was scared, confused. "But Tsuzuki, I…" Without thinking Hisoka rose from the fold out chair he had placed beside the brown haired man's bed, instead sitting next to Tsuzuki on the bed, delicately running his fingers through the other's damp hair. The blonde felt shivers run up his spine, he wasn't used to being so kind. His usually intense demeanor was being melted at the sight of his sick partner and it made him uncomfortable, but weirdly happy. Happy that he was the only one Tsuzuki wanted.

--

The pain is back again. I can feel it in my wrist, below my watch. Why won't it go away? I'm dead now, why does my body still have this scar? So many nights I've cried, but my tears can't wash my sin away. The scar still remains. The pain still exists, and now its back again.

I think its opening. I'm seeing red again and the pressure's coming back. I remember this feeling, an unstable level between life and death. Its almost unfeeling, a euphoria. I wish there was no afterlife now. I wish I had just stopped existing because if I'm still here, my pain is too…and the blood.

I know why I'm sick, its punishment. I'm being made to atone for that day, my final sin of taking my own life. Because ultimately, if I'm dead, how can I make up for the horrible deeds I committed?

This is my anniversary of death, and I'm glad Hisoka's here to share it with me. But I wish the blood would stop running, I wish the pressure would go away.

--

Hisoka watched Tsuzuki numbly. The older shinigami had fallen into a restless sleep; he had reached the height of his fever and beads of sweat cascaded across his tense brow. The blonde continued to stroke his hair lovingly while he clumsily rubbed his chest with the damp washcloth. Hisoka's arms burned from the awkward position, but he ignored the sting instead focusing on his partner's well being.

"What could've done this to you?" He mumbled quietly, disregarding the tingle in the corner of his emerald eyes where tears were forming. Hisoka remembered this feeling of helplessness: he had felt it for the first time when he was still alive, when he was sick. And then when he had finally died he had been subjected to the feeling again, except this time for not being able to save the lives of others. But as he hunched over Tsuzuki's lithe form he realized this was the worst feeling of all: the realization that he couldn't help the one he loved most.

"You planned this didn't you?" Hisoka sniffed softly as tears rolled down his pale nose, "you always are frustrating me, why do you make me feel so weak?" His voice cracked with stress and he had an almost irrepressible desire to hit something. "I don't want to like you," Hisoka hiccupped and wiped his nose on his shoulder. "I don't want to love you."

"Soka, are you okay?" The blonde jumped at the soft sound of Tsuzuki's voice. His mind raced blindly, how much had he heard, how long had he been awake?

Pulling his hand from Tsuzuki's hair Hisoka stumbled off the bed and knocked the bowl of water to the floor. "Shit!" He cried, aggravated. "I'm fine Tsuzuki, I'm not the one that's sick." His voice was thick with tears and he hurried to the bathroom to find a towel, quickly wiping his eyes as he made his way back to the bedroom.

"Were you crying?" Tsuzuki pressed, concern knitting his brow.

Hisoka ignored the question and concentrated on mopping up the small puddle of water. "I think your fever broke, maybe you should take a shower." The blonde suggested, not bothering to look up.

Tsuzuki frowned slightly and eased himself slowly off the comforter. His stomach flip-flopped uncomfortably as he moved and he rested his warm forehead in his hands. "Can you make it?" Hisoka asked uneasily after standing from the floor and finding the older shinigami still sitting at the edge of the bed.

"Y-yeah, 'm just a little dizzy." Tsuzuki mumbled, standing slowly from the bedside and shuffling to the brightly lit bathroom.

Hisoka stood poised next to the bed, waiting nervously until he heard the water turn on and the soft click of the shower door opening and closing. Then he busied himself with cleaning the cluttered apartment, anything to clear his mind. He wandered around aimlessly, turning on overheads and piling dirty clothes in a laundry hamper.

After a few minutes the small home was in a decent order and Hisoka moved on to the kitchen, having decided to make some soup. He sifted through the practically empty cabinets until finding a small pack of instant ramen. "This'll have to do," He sighed to himself, he hadn't expected to find anything of much nutritional value anyway and at least the ramen had somewhat of a broth to it.

Shortly after the warm smell of ramen had wafted through the apartment Tsuzuki shuffled from the steaming bathroom and collapsed on his small tan couch. "Thanks for cleaning up." He said slowly as the young blonde entered the undersized living room, ramen in hand.

"I don't know how you can live in such a mess!" Hisoka scolded, pausing as he noticed Tsuzuki's forlorn face. The older shinigami's head was bent over, his lips in a slight frown, and water dripped slowly from his dark brown hair. "A-are you okay, Tsuzuki? Are you still feeling sick?" The blonde asked, placing the ramen on the coffee table in front of the couch and squeezing next to Tsuzuki.

"Yeah, I'm just tired I guess." The dark haired man stated, playing halfheartedly with his watch.

"Well are you hungry at all because I made you some ramen…" Hisoka's voice trailed off as he noticed the tears trickling down Tsuzuki's flushed cheeks. Without thinking he surged forward, wrapping his feeble arms around Tsuzuki and nuzzling his forehead into the older man's chest. "Please just tell me what's wrong Tsuzuki! I don't want you to be hurt!" He sobbed uncontrollably.

Tsuzuki's eyes widened and he pulled his arms free, tightening them around Hisoka and rubbing the boy's heaving back. "I love you Hisoka, your caring for me is enough. Nothing's wrong now, I'm just tired." He purred calmly, lowering his eyelids in happiness.

"Your lying, something's wrong. You, Watari, Tatsumi, the chief, none of you will tell me but something's wrong. You know my past, so why can't you trust me with yours?" Hisoka gulped, digging his nails into Tsuzuki's loose t-shirt.

"I can't tell you yet, Soka. If I tell you you won't love me anymore." Tsuzuki trembled as the memories of his death relayed before his eyes.

Hisoka pushed on Tsuzuki's shoulders till they were face-to-face and stared into the shinigami's violet eyes. "I'll never stop loving you." He swallowed hard and his face fell into a serious gaze.

Tsuzuki felt taken aback, he had never seen his younger partner be so passionate and it frightened him. How could some one love him, when he didn't even love himself? "Please, Hisoka, if you love me, give me time. Please." He begged slowly, arms trembling uncontrollably.

Hisoka wanted to fight, he wanted to say no or even give up on the shinigami and yell at him, tell him he was stupid and helpless. But he didn't, his empathetic heart absorbed the intense fear radiating so freely from his partner's scarred mind and he conceded. "Do you promise?" Hisoka ventured cautiously, "Do you promise that one day you'll tell me your secrets?"

Tsuzuki nodded solemnly and pulled Hisoka back to his chest. "I promise." He whispered gently.

--

Okey dokey. Ummm I guess I –could- write more but I think this is a good ending. Soo…you guys don't kill me, I did take a long time to update but at least I did it right? Right? T.T I really am sorry…

Maybe I'll write another Yami no Matsuei fic, writing it was pretty fun. Or maybe a sequel to this fic! Anyhoo if you guys have time please review, I really enjoy reading them, good or bad :) u


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